From the Wreckage
by ASilencedMurderer
Summary: A take on the major battle at the end of Afterlife. Contains gore, a terrible plot line, and lesbians. Alice/Claire. Read if you really want to, but it is kind of terrible, not going to lie.


**AN: Okay, so, still procrastinating with Pistol Grip Pump. Nonetheless, I bring you this beauty of sorts. Inspired by one of the songs off the Mass Effect soundtrack. (What's that? Abbie procrastinating with games? Noooo, never.) Enough with the useless garble, enjoy (set right at the end of Afterlife. First half was written in an extremely tired state, second half written about four months or so after.)**

If anyone had mentioned Arcadia to Alice two years ago, she would've questioned their sanity to mention such lies and pipe dreams. If anyone had mentioned Arcadia to Alice one year ago, she would've seen a glint of hope among the barren wastelands of America. If anyone mentioned Arcadia to Alice today, she would've screamed 'TRAP!' from the highest of heavens.

Unfortunately, Alice didn't have the fortune of getting warned from such a danger.

The tiring brunette was now standing on the deck of the Arcadia, watching the skies as an armada of Ospreys filled the beautiful blue with deathly black. Honestly, Alice thought that with Wesker now nuked into thousands upon thousands of different fleshy pieces, the threat of Umbrella would disappear.

She was wrong.

Ospreys covered every inch of the air, their gatlin guns aimed right her lithe form. Well, not only just her: Claire Redfield, ex-Convoy Leader turned Umbrella Refugee with her elder brother, Chris Redfield, an ex-STARS employee turned survivor were standing beside the brunette, as if they were loyal squad members prepared to sacrifice their lives for the hope of humanity.

Despite the damning circumstances, the weather was neutral: it was a clear day, so visual contact would be easily made, and the wind was behind them, flicking brunette locks into the air and back down again with every gust. According to the position of the sun, it was late midday, moving on to about 4 o'clock in the afternoon/evening.

Looking at the small but yet lethal aircraft up in the air, Alice had guessed that each Osprey were carrying Umbrella soldiers – or pawns of biological war, as the older woman liked to call them. As well as the pawns of war, were the weapons hanging on the body and wings of the aircraft. The Arcadia only had limited weapons, and within that, limited people who actually knew how to use a firearm. The odds were not in favour for the survivors upon the deck.

Nonetheless, a battle had to be won: a battle between hope and greed, between the weak left hand and the dominant right hand. Between the survivors of the apocalypse and the horsemen of the apocalypse. Good versus evil to clash once again upon the mighty seas.

Spinning on her heel, Alice nodded towards the two Redfields, knowing what they had to do. First, they started to push the Arcadia Subjects back into the ship, and ordering K-Mart and Luther to pick up weapons stashed in the hull of the hulking ship.

After the rather one-sided fight with the chairman of Umbrella, the ex-employee barely had any weapons left. In fact, she only had two: her sawn off shotguns. Alice had to go scavenging about to find some decent six-shooters again that would match up to her Smith & Wessons.

Once the Arcadia Subjects had been pushed back, weapons and ammunitions dealt out and an improvised line of defense made, the two sides watched the other, as if they were waiting for the other to make the first move. It was a dance of death; one fault, one misstep, one wrong turn, and one side would fall into a state of nothing.

It was strange, really, Umbrella had some useful and clever tactics for once: instead of storming the ship, they waited for a prime moment: one side would tire, eventually.

What felt like an eternity – in reality, was a minute – of watching aircraft watch flesh, the sound of an aircraft-mounted machine gun whirring up filled the air, and the sound of Alice bellowing "GET DOWN" followed shortly after.

Bullets flew.

They tore through the metal, as more and more Osprey joined in, some bullets ricocheting off the walls, some embedding themselves into the metal, others completely missing and landing straight into the water. Those who were unfortunate enough, fell, crimson liquid now staining the metallic floors.

She peeked out of her cover to see Umbrella soldiers dropping down onto the deck, pressing forward with ease while covering fire supported them.

"Claire!" Green eyes met knowing blue eyes. "Umbrella, incoming! The machine guns will soon overheat, when they stop, open fire!" Alice commanded, the redhead soon passing the information down to Luther and Chris.

And as Alice predicted, the machine guns did overheat: when silence barely graced the survivor's ears, Alice whipped out, firing her newly acquired M4 Carbine. To be completely honest, she didn't know why she was even bothering to defend this ship, they could've easily escaped while they had the chance.

Was it for hope? For humanity? For Claire?

Claire had yet to remember the rather intimate event they shared back in the desert, out of sheer desperation for human need. This wasn't important right now, though, their survival against these heartless bastards were.

Picking off the soldiers in short but yet precise bursts, Claire, Chris and others followed suit, pressing forward against the oncoming storm of bullets.

She knew the risk of heavy casualties, but it was necessary. Major injury and possible death was worth it.

Worth it for what? The same question came through her head again. Was it for Claire? Pushing the question to the back of her head, she continued to dispose the Umbrella soldiers. Knowing that her clip would click empty soon, she slung the carbine over her shoulder, instantly heading for hand-to-hand combat. As a soldier attempted to knock her out with the butt of his gun, she tugged the weapon forward, exposing the arm: with one forceful punch to the underside of the elbow, she shattered the bone, rendering the arm useless. Continuing the fluid motion, she threw the armour-clad man over her hip, removing the barely used automatic shotgun from his grip.

In her peripheral vision, Chris was throwing punches as if his fists were sledgehammers, and his younger sister was firing off pistol rounds faster than a soldier could react. In the depths of Alice's mind, Claire looked damn stunning, no matter what she was doing: even when she was shooting live humans.

Briefly glancing up, she noticed the Ospreys still deploying soldiers as if they had an unlimited supply of pawns willing to risk their lives.

The floating battlefield was gruesome: the sound of screams was never ending, the crunching of bones being crushed under sheer force, blood spraying – coating everyone within radius –, the endless gunshots being fired, deafening those around them. What was most horrifying, however, was the blood.

Alice was used to blood from causes such as injuries, but this was just disgusting. With every death, with every scream, with every bullet, more blood fell, coating every inch, intertwining with the ocean surrounding them, turning gorgeous blue into murky red. Not even a pre-apocalypse battlefield could be compared to what the brunette could see right now.

This needed to end.

No more guns. No more infected. No more Umbrella. No more hate. No. More. Bloodshed.

As another armour clad soldier charged her, she finally utilised the shotguns in her grip, tugging the trigger; resulting in some serious recoil, a new hole was torn into the unidentified man's helmet, exposing brain tissue and some bone.

Now, the brunette had a small break in Umbrella lines, and fell back towards the redhead of which who successfully snapped the spinal cord of another soldier. Another pump of the trigger, and Umbrella had fell back into a strategic defensive position, opting to hide behind barrels, crates, Alice's fallen plane and various other pieces of the Arcadia's infrastructure. Between reloads and frag grenades, the occasional soldier popped out of cover to fire off half a clip before diving back down again, making a win for either side less and less possible.

A few moments passed when an Osprey began to lower its altitude, moving towards the stern of the ship. Blades whipping through the air deafened everyone nearby, pushing the wind against them with some serious force. Alice, Claire, Chris and many other survivors had to shield their eyes as the Osprey closed in, each survivor coated in nearly dried blood; Alice herself had a few splatters across her face. A creaking sound grazed the brunette's ears, before a flash of purple graced her eyesight, disappearing again. Under Claire's orders, the motley crew of survivors started moving forward, firing with some precision.

Another flash of purple; followed by flowing blonde. Alice whipped her shotguns around to attempt to keep her sights on the absurd anomaly, but was only greeted with clouding skies and Ospreys dropping another round of expendable muscle. The brunette was about to spin around again when bare knuckles collided with her jaw, knocking her back a step as a knee connected with her ribs before the assailant hopped back to roundhouse kick her with force. As momentum was with the unknown attacker, Alice had spun around from the perfectly executed heel kick, gravity then pushing her to the floor with a thick _thud_. Before Alice had a chance to recover, fingers entwined with her dirty brown locks, tugging her back as her eyesight tried to focus.

"Ah, Alice. What a surprise to see you here." A sarcastic voice sarcastically drawled into her left ear. The voice was recognisable, but no face nor name came. It was feminine voice, sophisticated, but filled with venom. "You've done nothing but piss Wesker and the corporation off. Why don't you face me so I can see the loss in your face?" With a heavy yank by the hair, Alice was forced to flip over, sunlight pouring into her pupils. Seconds passed before the assailant's face came into focus: the assailant was the purple smudge, the strange anomaly whipping through Arcadian skies. "Recognise me?"

"_Jill_?" Utter confusion laced her voice. "You're alive? You're working with Umbrella? _What_?"

"Umbrella offered a hope for humanity; my survival. Your ways are lacking in logic, dangerous, vile. The corporation ways are so well planned, how could I say no? Science and hope for humanity first, everything else second."

"You were against Umbrella! Part of STARS!"

"Yeah, and? You were against joining human convoys, the last I checked."

"People change. You can change, too. Back to the Jill I used to know."

This caused something to spark in Jill's eyes, something expressing sadness, defeat... loss. This emotion was lost within a millisecond, replaced with anger. Jill grabbed Alice by the collar, heaving her up, pinning the brunette up against the ship's walls. "The Jill you used to know is dead. She was an idea. Wesker says I'm the future. I'm the future, Alice!"

"Wesker also thought that continuing the experiments on the T-Virus would be a brilliant idea. Look how well that went." Alice quipped, growling slightly. Behind Jill, Claire was unsuccessfully battling off three Umbrella soldiers, over an Arcadia Subject's corpse: something snapped with Alice, a line finally crossed for the first time.

"You thought that humanity had a hope without Umbrella! To exist in ignorant harmony!"

"My hopes lie with Claire Redfield." With that said, whipped her arm around, the forearm colliding with the cheekbone with some serious force: this move caused Jill to release her grip long enough for Alice to throw a powerful blow to the blonde's right kidney, the repercussions being Jill doubling over as she took a step back. Alice took the moment to regain composure, noting the fact that Jill was wearing a skin tight leather purple battlesuit with the zip tugged down a certain revealing amount; revealing plenty cleavage and a P30 device clinging onto the skin for dear synthetic life. The device explained the reason why Jill was here, and the sudden hate towards the brunette: Umbrella mind control. The top priority now was the removal of the device, and the eradication of the corporation's threat upon this boat.

Jill was soon back into action, snapping precise kicks at Alice, dodging others, dancing around sloppy blows. The battle between these two fierce women was a bloody ballet, each move either being the precise moment when the other woman fell, or another pointlessly strategic move to be put into the past. Black blurred with purple, with hints of pale white and red. Each step, each dive forward, or lunge back was counteracted at exactly the same time, neither woman gaining or losing distance for they were equally matched: it was now a battle of strategy rather than strength.

This fight was beginning to frustrate Alice: casualties were beginning to pile up for the survivor's side, and the status of K-mart, Chris and specifically Claire was unknown since they were out of sight. On top of the visibility problem, the fact that she couldn't gain an advantage or a disadvantage against the blonde just frustrated her further. Feinting a left hook and moving in with a right grapple, she stepped in as she twisted around, pressing hear rear end into Jill's front as she tugged on her left arm, flipping Jill over her hip with momentum carrying her further: when the reassuring sound of a human body successfully colliding with the floor, Alice didn't spare a second to lock her in a sideways stranglehold, her left forearm pressing down on the neck as the other began tugging at the P30 device. This was futile, the device was still clinging on the Jill's skin with strength when Jill began to restrain against the stranglehold, her elbow connecting with Alice's cranium with a sickening crack. In response, Alice fell back, holding her forehead as blood crept through her fingers, bloodying tousles of brunette hair that were in the way. She was about to get back up when the accustomed sound of a gun cocking caused the woman to divert her attention back to Jill, who had a .45 pointed at her forehead.

"Project Alice: terminated." A smirk played across her lips.

Whipping her leg around, her heel caught Jill's ankles, the blonde falling on her side as Alice made a quick escape to a nearby ladder as the brainwashed woman began to pop off rounds at the escaping brunette: one bullet was lucky enough to catch her right bicep, albeit a through and through, it went straight through the tissue, through the muscle and embedded itself in the wall of the helm. Sucking in the pain, she continued her ascent up the helm's side. Jill soon followed, high heels colliding with the hollow rungs of the ladder.

Scrambling off the ladder, she backed up, going for her short sword when she only grasped at thin air: she remembered that she lost her close combat weapon in an infected back in the prison: cursing, she drew out her last weapon, hearing the gunfight continue on below. The sawn of shotgun was pointed at the tip of the ladder, feet planted firmly on the helm's roof as she awaited Jill's arrival. Blood continue to drip from her gunshot wound, but she ignored it, for it would be only a distraction if she went to clean it up. Infection of a wound was nothing compared to the bigger picture of removing the P30 device and removing the Umbrella threat.

This was it. She would either remove the device successfully, or get shot several times in several body parts as an attempt to do the last listed objective. If she died, would've it been worth it? Would Jill kill everyone else and go 'home', back to Umbrella? What would Umbrella even do if they won? This just spurred Alice on further, begging her not to lose. Not now. Not when Claire was at stake.

More seconds passed. Jill was taking her sweet time: either that, or time just stopped to annoy Alice. Either way, it was pure torture: she would rather bathe in acid than wait another second. Someone must've heard her thoughts when the brainwashed assailant appeared, diving forward to take Alice down by the legs: her shotgun – her only weapon – skidded off the side, down below to where Claire was fighting. Jill was on top of Alice now, strangling her with all her might. Throwing a few punches to Jill's jaw, it was nothing but a scratch for the sheer determination of crushing her own windpipe. Noting the view on the P30 device, she reached out; beginning to tug on the device with all the strength she could muster. Now it was a matter of who could incapacitate the other faster, Jill killing Alice, or Alice removing the device. Alice's eyes met Jill's, of which Jill's eyes were just apologising for everything, but the scowl on her lips differed from what Jill's eyes were saying: blackness was soon clouding her peripheral vision when Alice finally ripped the device off Jill's chest, her grip on her own neck relaxing as she fell on top of the brunette, knocked out. Relieved that she was now able to breathe, and the fact that device was removed; she took heavy breaths as she shoved the weight on top of her off.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Below her, gunfire was ceasing as more bodies fell. Claire and her band of survivors had the upper hand, and upper ground for that matter, and were picking off the final members of the Umbrella assault: most of the Ospreys had either been taken down or had flew off by tactical shooting or by acquiring conveniently placed rocket launchers off the corporation. Only two Ospreys were left, and one was nearly having an engine failure with the amount of damage given.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Standing up, she saw the two damaged Ospreys beginning to whir up their gatlin guns, aiming at both the failed experiment of Jill Valentine and the ex-project Alice: the lethal machine guns were about to unleash living hell onto the two women when one of the damaged wings cut out, careering off to the side to collide with the other with some serious speed. It was inevitable: Osprey collides with second Osprey, both Ospreys fly towards Alice and Jill, they both die. Well, Jill wouldn't die if Alice could help it.

As the Ospreys crashed and began to spin towards the two women, the brunette shoved the stirring blonde away, taking the full force of the crash all to herself. Eternal blackness fell.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After watching the crash, Claire practically screamed as a wave of fire consumed the helm's roof, debris flying every which-where: some pieces even caught the survivors, Claire getting scratched as a shard of glass flew by. It took another minute for the wreckage's fire to die out to a safe amount and for the debris to settle scattered across the Arcadia. Then the realisation came to Claire. "Shit, Alice!" She scrambled towards the helm, jumping over debris and sliding under others. Reaching the ladder that Alice climbed up not 10 minutes ago, Claire ascended as quickly as she could, Chris and K-mart following.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was just blackness. No heaven. No hell. Nobody saying that you're dead. Just nothing. Eternal blackness with a side order of more blackness and the fresh sauce of absolutely nothing. Alice truly thought that this was it when her brain began to shut off. Strangely, white light began to pour through, and the sound of distant voices being ordered by a dominant voice that she loved. The brunette's eyes finally focused on the skies that she recognised, and a face that she certainly adored. "So I'm not really dead then?"

"No. If you were, I'll bring you back alive to kill you for being dead." Claire quipped, relieved that the brunette was fine.

"Good to know." Alice laughed, which turned painful when her ribs complained. Sitting up, she noted the survivors beginning to clean up the mess that was the Umbrella assault on the Arcadia. Chris and K-mart were aiding the unscathed Jill, of which Chris was shocked to see the blonde's appearance. The brunette then moved to stand up, aided by the redheaded ex-convoy leader. Alice was badly hurt, she had to admit, but it was survivable to say the least.

"Alice?"

"Yes?"

"Scare me again like that and I'll throw you overboard."

"Noted." Alice had the Abernathy smirk written across her lips, despite the pain and terror she just had to go through. The next thing she knew, however, was lips pressed against her own. She barely had time to respond when the redhead pulled away.

"Anyway." Claire cleared her throat awkwardly, a blush creeping up her neck.

"Anyway." The brunette repeated, heading towards the ladder, Claire in tow. It took her a while to descend, and when her foot touched the now safe floor of the boat, she felt eyes upon her and Claire. Turning, she found her last statement true when she saw the survivor's eyes laid upon them; not a second later, an eruption of cheering and celebration was made for what felt like the first time in years, some even going out of the way to personally thank the two women. She felt a hand intertwine with her own, and she looked to her left to see a beautiful redhead standing close.

For the first time in years, Alice cracked a proper smile.

From the wreckage, Alice had risen.

From the wreckage, hope for humanity – and for herself – had been reborn.

**AN: How's that for a shitty and extremely predictable ending? I may or may not regret putting this up. This is probably the shittiest fic I've written. Scratch that, it's probably the worst Alice/Claire fic ever written. Also, would Umbrella be Cerberus in the Mass Effect world? Is Wesker GLaDOS' batshit insane brother? #random thoughts of the day**


End file.
